London, England
When Sir Anthony Prescott returned to his luxury penthouse that evening, he was surprised to find himself graced with the company of his son. Oliver Prescott sat in the living room, flipping through the television channels unenthusastically. When he heard the front door open, his ears perked up, anticipating the sight of his father. Tony strolled into the living room and stood in the doorway.
"Why, Oliver. How nice of you to drop by."
"Now, Dad, let's not be cruel."
Tony walked over and plopped down on the couch beside him.
"So. What brings you here, Ollie?"
"I was bored, and I decided to pay a visit to dear old Dad."
Tony stared at him in disbelief.
"Who are you, and what have you done with my son!"
"I wanted to visit my father. Let's not make a talk show out of it, okay?"
"Rachel threw you out again, didn't she?" Tony speculated.
"No, Rachel did not throw me out again!"
"Really."
"Okay, Rachel threw me out. But it was mostly reciprocal this time," Oliver explained.
"Mostly?"
"I would have left eventually. Maybe just not…quite so soon. That's all. Anyway, enough about me. Where have you been all evening, Casanova?"
"I'm really not a liberty to say," Tony replied, haughtily.
"You're really not as funny as you think you are, Dad."
"That's not what the First Lady of the United States told me this evening."
Oliver paused, slowly comprehending what his father had just said.
"What…did you say?"
Tony chuckled.
"It so happens that the First Lady of the good ole U.S. of A. thinks I'm quite the comedian."
"Dad, you weren't…"
"Out with Abigail Bartlet tonight? Yes, as a matter of fact, I was."
"You're kidding! How in God's name did you swing that?" Oliver questioned.
"We met in a Versailles a few weeks ago. Didn't I tell you?"
"No! I'm sure I would have remembered you telling me something like that. I don't believe this! One moment, hold on. It wasn't a…date, was it?"
"That's a good question. I should have asked."
"What do you mean?"
"I have absolutely no idea whether or not it was a date," Tony replied, honestly.
"This may sound like a ridiculous question, but isn't she…married?"
"They don't call her First Lady for nothing, Ollie."
"Then it couldn't have been a date. Right?"
Oliver shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he was at ease with this situation.
"I don't know. There were moments when it seemed like one."
"My God. I don't believe this. You took out Abbey Bartlet tonight, and you have no idea what it means. Has she left the President? Because I haven't read anything about it, and I'm sure I would have."
"I don't know, to be honest," Tony answered.
"You don't know? She didn't mention him to you at all?"
"Hardly."
"I…I'm flabbergasted by this. What is she doing in London anyway?" Oliver inquired.
"She's here with her daughter."
"Which one? The one who was kidnapped?"
Tony nodded.
"Zoey."
"Just the two of them?"
"Yes."
"Well. You know what my next question is, don't you?" Oliver said.
"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."
"What are you doing, Dad? What are you trying to do?"
"I am trying to enjoy my life a bit, Oliver, is that all right with you?"
"That's not what I'm asking. I want to know what you think is going to happen with this relationship."
Tony stopped to ruminate a moment before speaking.
"I really like her, Ol."
Oliver frowned worriedly.
"Oh, God. Really?"
"Yes," Tony replied, honestly.
"Ok. Well, let me ask you this. Suppose she starts something up with you, and you fall for her completely, and then she decides to go back to her husband. He's the President of the United States, for God's sake. What do you do then?"
Tony shrugged.
"We're not there yet, Oliver. We'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it."
"So you're planning to persue this woman?" Oliver questioned.
"She is not 'this woman.' She's the First Lady of the U.S.!"
"You know Daphne's going to throw a fit if you persue her."
"Daphne would throw a fit if I persued anyone! Like mother, like daughter."
"I hope you know what you're doing, Dad."
"I hope so too."
Baltimore, Maryland
"So. How's Mark?" Elizabeth asked.
Ellie rolled her eyes.
"I don't want to talk about Mark, Liz. There's a more important issue at hand."
"Right. Ok. Well. Zoey said there was someone else," Liz said, settling herself on her sister's couch.
"What?"
Ellie sat down beside her.
"Well, she said nothing was set in stone yet, obviously. But…Mom's met someone."
"You mean another guy?" Ellie asked.
Liz nodded.
"You're kidding!"
"Nope. Zoey said he's like…a Lord or something. A knight, or a duke. Something British," Liz continued.
"I don't understand. Mom's seeing another guy?"
"No! Well, not yet, I don't think."
"This doesn't make any sense. Mom would never…"
Before Ellie could finish her sentence, the phone rang. She leaned over to the end table and picked up the cordless.
"Hello?"
"El, it's me."
"Zoey, hold on. Liz's here. I'm gonna put you on speaker."
Ellie placed the phone back down on the charger and hit the 'speaker' button.
"Okay."
"Hi, Zoey," Liz said.
"Hey, Liz."
"So what's going on?" Ellie asked.
"Mom just got home. She was…out with the guy I was telling you about, Liz."
Liz laughed.
"Who, Nobility Man?"
"Yeah. Sir Anthony Prescott."
"Ooh, fancy," Liz commented.
"What happened, Zoey?" Ellie asked.
"She…had a good time," Zoey replied. "She had a good time, and I'm scared."
"Oh, come on, Zo, you don't really think something's going to happen, do you?" Elizabeth questioned.
"I don't know. I haven't seen her this happy since before…before…"
"Yeah," Ellie said. "I don't know. Maybe she just needed a little reassurance."
"Reassurance?" Liz said.
"You know. Testing to see if she could still get a guy. That kind of thing."
"I don't know, El."
"Well, did she mention seeing him again?"
"No. Unless you count the party, I guess," Zoey answered.
"What party?" Liz said.
"Oh. Tony and Lord Marbury are throwing us a party in a few days."
"Why?" Ellie wondered.
"I don't know. Because they want to? They're extravagent British aristocrats. That's what they do."
"Well, make sure you call us after the party. Let us know what's going on," Liz suggested.
"I will."